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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001266">1B+</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89'>kjack89</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, COVID, Established Relationship, M/M, vaccine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:49:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m less than ecstatic that you, a white man who lives in one of the most affluent zip codes in our city, was able to get vaccinated, while vaccine rates in low income and majority minority zips remain among the lowest in the nation,” Enjolras snapped, the impetus of his argument with Grantaire finally becoming clear for everyone else on the Zoom call. “Forgive me for not celebrating that Black and brown folks remain disproportionately at risk while you get to go back to wasting your life drinking in bars until all hours of the night.”</p><p>Grantaire rolled his eyes so hard that Combeferre was half-afraid he’d pulled a muscle. “Right, because in addition to apparently being an alcoholic, I’m also so incredibly selfish that I would put low income workers at risk just so that I can sit by myself indoors at a bar during a pandemic.”</p><p>“Hey, not by yourself,” Bahorel interjected with the sort of threatening cheerfulness he used when he was aggressively trying to change the topic. “Don’t forget, Feuilly got poked a few weeks ago, so he could join you.”</p><p>Feuilly looked very much like he wanted to be left out of the conversation entirely.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1B+</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just having a great time with the 1-year COVID anniversary and the uncertainty around vaccinations, like one does.</p><p>Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s redlining!” <b><br/></b></p><p>Enjolras’s raised voice was the first thing anyone heard as soon as they got on the weekly Zoom call, and Combeferre winced, reaching to turn down the volume on his laptop. The chat was already blowing up with everyone asking everyone else – besides Enjolras and Grantaire, for obvious reasons – what was the source of the argument this week.</p><p>Combeferre sent various versions of ‘I have no idea’ to everyone as Enjolras and Grantaire glared at each other through their respective computer screens. “I understand that,” Grantaire started, sounding angrier than usual, since he had a tendency to sound like he was enjoying his weekly arguments with Enjolras, “but I don’t think—”</p><p>“Look at the zip code map for the city,” Enjolras interrupted, also unusually angry, as Combeferre suspected (but would never, ever vocalize) that he also enjoyed his verbal spars with Grantaire. “It matches up almost exactly with historical redlining!”</p><p>“And I’m not denying that,” Grantaire snapped. “But that doesn’t mean—”</p><p>Marius had the misfortune of logging on right then, and had the even greater misfortune of not knowing immediately that he stepped right into the middle of a fight as he cheerfully said, “How’s everyone’s day going?” He broke off as he apparently spotted the desperate hand gestures that Courfeyrac was making. “Oh, um, sorry. Did I interrupt?”</p><p>“No,” Grantaire said stiffly. “We’re done here.”</p><p>Enjolras rolled his eyes but didn’t appear to want to argue further, and Combeferre waited for a beat before unmuting himself. “Do either of you want to catch us up to speed?” he asked carefully.</p><p>Grantaire shook his head as he stood, disappearing from his camera’s view, and Enjolras scowled. “We’re talking about the vaccine,” he said, a little sourly, hesitating before adding, “Grantaire got vaccinated today.”</p><p>Courfeyrac whooped. “R, you got your Fauci ouchie?” he asked, delighted.</p><p>“Which did you get?” Joly asked, more curious than elated. “Moderna? Pfizer? Johnson &amp; Johnson?”</p><p>Bossuet nudged him. “Does it matter?” he asked, sounding amused.</p><p>“No, of course not, and I’ll take whatever they want to stick in me—”</p><p>“Yeah you will,” Courfeyrac snickered.</p><p>“—but I’m keeping track of anecdotal data about reactions to the various vaccines,” Joly continued, giving Courfeyrac the finger.</p><p>“It was the Pfizer vaccine, but I think you’re all missing the broader point,” Enjolras said stiffly.</p><p>Grantaire reappeared on screen, a drink in hand. “Pretty sure the only one missing the point is you,” he said. “And Joly, before you ask, thus far the only negative reaction I’ve had is from Enjolras.”</p><p>Joly frowned. “That’s not what—”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m less than ecstatic that you, a white man who lives in one of the most affluent zip codes in our city, was able to get vaccinated, while vaccine rates in low income and majority minority zips remain among the lowest in the nation,” Enjolras snapped, the impetus of his argument with Grantaire finally becoming clear for everyone else on the Zoom call. “Forgive me for not celebrating that Black and brown folks remain disproportionately at risk while you get to go back to wasting your life drinking in bars until all hours of the night.”</p><p>Grantaire rolled his eyes so hard that Combeferre was half-afraid he’d pulled a muscle. “Right, because I forgot, in addition to apparently being an alcoholic, I’m also so incredibly selfish that I would put low income workers at risk just so that I can sit by myself indoors at a bar during a pandemic.”</p><p>“Hey, not by yourself,” Bahorel interjected with the sort of threatening cheerfulness he used when he was aggressively trying to change the topic. “Don’t forget, Feuilly got poked a few weeks ago, so he could join you.”</p><p>Feuilly looked very much like he wanted to be left out of the conversation entirely. “Ah, yes, the perks of being essential to keeping capitalism running,” he muttered.</p><p>But Bahorel’s attempt at humor had seemingly only made Enjolras angrier. “Yes, Feuilly got his vaccine because he’s essential,” he said icily. “Not to mention because he’s been risking his life for over a year now while the rest of us got to stay home.”</p><p>“Not to pull a Taylor Swift but I would really like to be excluded from this narrative,” Feuilly said.</p><p>Enjolras and Grantaire both ignored him. “I’m sorry that I can’t be as ideal as Feuilly,” Grantaire all but spat, “but me taking the vaccine because I’m eligible and was able to has exactly zero impact on the failures of equitable rollout.”</p><p>“Right, one less vaccine going to someone who actually needs it has no impact on anything,” Enjolras shot back. “Of course, I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s not like you’ve ever been willing to sacrifice anything for someone else.”</p><p>There was a sudden intake of breath from the collective group at that, and even Enjolras looked a little shamefaced. Grantaire’s expression was stony. “You really want to talk about sacrifice?” he asked quietly. “After everything this past year?”</p><p>Enjolras winced. “I didn’t mean—”</p><p>“Because while you were working at home this past year, some of us lost our jobs.” Grantaire’s voice was sharp. “And some of us have since stepped up to more or less become the primary caretaker for someone who’s too fucking stubborn to get the damn vaccine for himself, even though he’s also eligible!” Enjolras looked like he wanted to refute at least part of that, but Grantaire didn’t give him a chance. “But you know what? I’m done with that now. You can get your own damn groceries, even though you don’t have a car and refuse to use instacart. Or you can have takeout delivered without using third party delivery apps. Hell, you can figure out how to get anything delivered to you without using Amazon! I’m sure you and your moral superiority and your goddamned heart defect will have a gay ol’ time waiting for some arbitrary measure of equity.”</p><p>With that, he left the Zoom, leaving absolute silence in his wake. Enjolras looked too stunned to talk, so Combeferre took over. “Alright, everyone,” he said, “let’s take a quick break. I’ll send a text when we’re ready to get back online.” Everyone else quickly left, most likely relieved to not have to sit there in the awkward silence. Combeferre cleared his throat. “Enjolras?” he asked.</p><p>Enjolras blinked. “What?”</p><p>“Are you ok?”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>Combeferre frowned. “I mean, with what Grantaire said…”</p><p>Enjolras suddenly seemed very engaged with scrolling through his phone and not making eye contact with Combeferre. “You know Grantaire as well as I do,” he said dismissively. “He’s a drama queen.”</p><p>“Sure, and known to exaggerate. But not generally to outright lie.” Enjolras made a face but didn’t argue and Combeferre sighed. “Look, you’re not obligated to share any personal medical information—”</p><p>“Tell that to Grantaire,” Enjolras muttered.</p><p>“—but if there is something you want to tell us about…”</p><p>He trailed off and Enjolras sighed. “It’s really nothing,” he said grudgingly. “I have a small, congenital heart defect. “</p><p>Combeferre’s eyes narrowed. “How small?”</p><p>“Just, a tiny little hole. In the wall of my heart.”</p><p>“Atrial septal defect?” Combeferre asked sharply.</p><p>Enjolras snorted a laugh. “You’re a freak, you know that, right?” he asked good-naturedly. “Yes, an atrial septal defect. So I’m at slightly higher risk for COVID complications than the average adult.” He made a face. “And because Grantaire knows about it, he’s been absolutely insufferable.”</p><p>Combeferre nodded slowly. “Dare I ask how it is that Grantaire knows about this when you and I have been friends for years and this is the first I’m hearing of it?”</p><p>Enjolras squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, I sort of told him about it. But in my defense, I wasn’t exactly anticipating a pandemic at the time.”</p><p>“What were you anticipating?</p><p>Enjolras looked even more uncomfortable. “Um, more sex?”</p><p>Combeferre blinked. “I’m honestly afraid to ask.”</p><p>Enjolras rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not even a good story,” he mumbled. “It was back when we first got together…”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Enjolras and Grantaire lay in silence next to each other, both of their chests still heaving. Grantaire was the first to break the silence, glancing over at him. “What are you thinking?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” Grantaire said skeptically, propping himself up on his elbow. “I can always tell when you’re thinking. You get that wrinkle between your eyebrows.”</p><p>Enjolras scowled, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Playing to my vanity?” he asked.</p><p>Grantaire grinned, brushing Enjolras’s hand aside and leaning in to kiss Enjolras’s forehead. “I’ll take whatever advantage I can get,” he said. “So what are you thinking about? Other than the best orgasm of your life, courtesy of me?”</p><p>“In fairness, the bar for that was pretty low,” Enjolras said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth before it faded. “Just...shouldn’t we talk about this? About what we’re doing here?”</p><p>Making a face, Grantaire flopped over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. “Normally I require at least a half hour after sex before we do the ‘what are we’ conversation,” he said, his voice muffled before he turned his head to look over at Enjolras. “It’s like how you’re not supposed to swim for a half hour after you eat.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure that’s an old wives tale.”</p><p>Grantaire shifted in what might have been an attempt at a shrug. “Maybe, but I’m not willing to take that risk.”</p><p>Enjolras rolled his eyes and sat up. “Fine, then what do you want to talk about?”</p><p>“Who says we need to talk about anything?”</p><p>“Isn’t that normally what you do after having sex with someone?” Enjolras asked.</p><p>Grantaire smirked. “I mean, I’m hardly an expert but normally around this time I’m fishing around for my boxers so I can do the walk of shame home.”</p><p>Enjolras gave him a look. “Keep it up and you will be.”</p><p>Grantaire laughed. “Look, this isn’t exactly normal for either of us. I mean, at least I don’t have to worry about forgetting your name, so that’s a step up.”</p><p>“You are, as always, classy.”</p><p>Enjolras made as if to stand up but Grantaire reached out and caught his hand, keeping him in place. “Well, I mean, c’mon, we’ve known each other for years. This isn’t like a regular hookup. I don’t have to pretend to care about learning what you do for a living or what familial issues you brought with you into adulthood, mainly because I already know.”</p><p>Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “You think you know everything about me?”</p><p>“I know I know everything about you,” Grantaire said, a little smugly. “I mean, besides your social security number and family medical history, but we can save those for the second date.”</p><p>“I don’t know, I think my congenital heart defect makes for fascinating post-coital conversation,” Enjolras said with a grin. But Grantaire just stared at him, eyes wide, and his smile disappeared. “I was kidding.”</p><p>“So you don’t have a heart defect?”</p><p>Grantaire’s voice was even but Enjolras winced. “Well, I didn’t say that.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with your heart?” Grantaire asked quietly.</p><p>“A great many things, as I’m sure any of my few exes could attest,” Enjolras joked, but when Grantaire’s expression didn’t change, he sighed and elaborated, “I was born with a small hole in the wall of my heart. It’s called an atrial septal defect. Quite possibly caused by the cocaine habit my mother likes to pretend she didn’t have in the 80s.”</p><p>Grantaire didn’t laugh. “Is it serious?”</p><p>“No. Not really.” Enjolras shrugged. “I’m at higher risk for some heart and lung complications, but mostly it’s just something for my cardiologist to keep an eye on.”</p><p>For one long moment, Grantaire was silent, as if he was struggling with something to say. Then he managed a small smile of his own. “Well, at least it’s proof that you have a heart,” he said lightly.</p><p>Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “An Iron Man reference? Really?”</p><p>“Of course, I forgot that you hate the MCU.”</p><p>Enjolras made a face. “That’s a bit of a stretch. But Tony Stark is a war criminal so I’m not exactly thrilled with the comparison.”</p><p>Grantaire laughed. “Fair enough,” he said.</p><p>“Besides,” Enjolras said, his smirk returning as he moved closer to Grantaire, “wasn’t this enough proof that I have a heart?”</p><p>“Mm,” Grantaire said, his eyes half-closed as Enjolras traced his fingers down his back, “I’d say it’s more proof that you like sex. Which was also in doubt, for what it’s worth.”</p><p>Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Then what about this?” he asked, closing the space between them and kissing Grantaire, a slow, heady kiss that had Grantaire tugging him down onto the bed with him.</p><p>When they broke apart, it wasn’t to go far, their noses brushing against each other as they lay tangled up in each other. “That’s closer at least,” Grantaire murmured, his expression soft. “But I’ll keep the heart defect in mind, just in case you give me reason to doubt that you have a heart in the future.”</p><p>“I don’t plan to,” Enjolras told him.</p><p>Grantaire half-smiled. “I’m not sure this is the kind of thing that ever really is planned.”</p><p>“I know. But I want you to know that I’m…” Enjolras trailed off, looking for the right words. “I’m not going into this with the expectation that it’s a one and done kind of thing.”</p><p>Grantaire looked taken aback for a moment before his expression evened out. “Why, Monsieur, what sweet words for one such as me,” he said with a fake accent, fluttering his eyelashes at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Be serious,” he scoffed, adding warningly, “And don’t even say it.”</p><p>“Say what?” Grantaire asked innocently, not able to stop his grin.</p><p>“You know what.”</p><p>Grantaire’s grin widened. “Even if it’s true?”</p><p>Enjolras just gave him a look. “You’re less wild than you think.”</p><p>Grantaire laughed and stretched. “Yeah, well, I blame my 30s for that.” He waggled his eyebrows at Enjolras. “Besides, if we want to talk about wild, I want to hear more about your mother’s suspected cocaine habit.”</p><p>Enjolras shook his head, his eyes darkening as he looked at Grantaire. “How about we do something that doesn’t require any talking?”</p><p>“Oh, do you have a ball gag hidden somewhere that I don’t know about?”</p><p>“Grantaire,” Enjolras sighed exasperatedly.</p><p>Grantaire grinned, running his hands down Enjolras’s sides. “I’m just saying, you’re a pretty mouthy lay.”</p><p>Enjolras pressed a hand against his chest “As opposed to you, who is known for his ability to be silent.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”</p><p>Grantaire leaned in to kiss him but paused, his lips barely brushing Enjolras’s. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Is your heart healthy enough for sex?”</p><p>“It’s healthier than you’ll be if you don’t kiss me,” Enjolras said warningly.</p><p>“God, you’re bossy,” Grantaire sighed, but he was grinning again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate before kissing Enjolras once more.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>“And then about three weeks later, the world went to hell and all of a sudden, what I had told Grantaire mostly as a joke was somewhat more relevant,” Enjolras finished.</p><p>Combeferre nodded slowly. “Because COVID could cause problems?”</p><p>Enjolras shrugged. “Possibly.”</p><p>“But enough to put you in the 1B+ priority group.”</p><p>Combeferre didn’t pitch it as a question and Enjolras scowled. “Theoretically, yes, but these phases are bullshit, and besides, I’m not getting vaccinated until—”</p><p>“Enjolras,” Combeferre interrupted, exasperated and wishing for not the first time that he could reach through the computer screen to knock some sense into his best friend. “Get the damn shot.”</p><p>Enjolras looked taken aback. “What?”</p><p>“The rollout is never going to be perfect, but this is the dumbest hill that I’ve ever seen you choose to die on.” Combeferre gave him a look. “And that’s saying something because I remember the time you took a stand in favor of school uniforms in junior high.”</p><p>“They can be an equalizer for students who can’t afford expensive clothes,” Enjolras muttered. </p><p>“Enjolras.”</p><p>“I’m just saying,” Enjolras said stubbornly. “Besides, I don’t think this is a dumb hill to die on, considering the affluent folks who are exploiting every trick in the book to cut in line!”</p><p>Combeferre shook his head. “But you’re not cutting in line. You’re eligible.”</p><p>“Sure, but I also have excellent health insurance, and can take time off work if I get sick, so even if I were to catch it—”</p><p>Combeferre gave him a look. “And if you don’t eat your vegetables, there are poor, starving children in Africa…”</p><p>Enjolras matched his look with one of his own. “I’m more concerned about the poor starving children in our own neighborhood,” he snapped.</p><p>But Combeferre was undeterred. “And you refusing to get vaccinated helps them how, exactly?” Enjolras said nothing, just crossing his arms in front of his chest, and Combeferre managed a small, grim smile. “That’s what I thought.”</p><p>“It’s a matter of principle,” Enjolras said, just a little petulantly.</p><p>“So is getting vaccinated so that you can keep doing the important work that you do.” Combeferre sighed. “Look, I can’t make you get vaccinated any more than Grantaire can. But you being mad at Grantaire just because you feel guilty—”</p><p>“That’s not—” Combeferre raised both eyebrows and Enjolras winced. “I guess that is sort of what happened.”</p><p>Combeferre tactfully chose not to pile on to that. “Getting the vaccine keeps people safe,” he said instead. “And while Grantaire may claim not to care about anything, we both know he would do anything to keep you safe.”</p><p>“What are you saying?”</p><p>“I’m saying that he got the vaccine to keep you safe. And because he was eligible to.” Combeferre paused before adding, “And you owe him an apology.”</p><p>“And to schedule a vaccine appointment for myself?” Enjolras asked.</p><p>Combeferre shrugged. “Again, that’s your decision. But yes.”</p><p>Enjolras shook his head slowly, but he no longer looked angry. Instead, something contemplative stole across his expression. “Did you ever imagine, a year ago, that we’d be talking about this?”</p><p>“About you and Grantaire getting into some asinine fight and me talking you down from being a stubborn asshole?”</p><p>“Ok, well, when you put it like that…” Combeferre laughed and Enjolras managed a smile as well. “Thank you.”</p><p>Combeferre gave him a look. “The best way to thank me is to never make me play referee again.”</p><p>“Yes, but that’s just unrealistic, so…”</p><p>Combeferre laughed again and shook his head. “Talk to Grantaire,” he ordered. “In the meantime, I’ll get the meeting started again. You two can join us after you’ve talked.”</p><p>Enjolras sighed. “Yes sir,” he muttered sourly. “But there’s just one thing I need to do first.”</p><p>“Use an exploitative third party delivery app to send a bottle of whiskey to Grantaire as an apology?” Combeferre guessed.</p><p>Enjolras made a face. “Ok, two things.”</p><p>Combeferre grinned. “You’re making your vaccine appointment, aren’t you.”</p><p>Enjolras shrugged. “What can I say, you made some good points.”</p><p>“So did Grantaire,” Combeferre said pointedly. “And I suspect he’d much rather hear you say that than I.”</p><p>Enjolras waved a dismissive hand. “Go,” he ordered. “We’ll be back on the zoom shortly.”</p><p>Combeferre hesitated. “Just one more thing.”</p><p>“Now what?” Enjolras asked, exasperated.</p><p>“Make sure to tell Grantaire that you understand.”</p><p>Enjolras’s brow furrowed. “Understand what?”</p><p>“That he got the vaccine because he loves you.” He leveled a look at Enjolras. “Enough for him to forgive you for accusing him of cutting the line just so he can drink at a bar.”</p><p>Enjolras winced. “Not my finest moment,” he admitted.</p><p>“Not so much,” Combeferre agreed.</p><p>“Think he’ll forgive me?”</p><p>Combeferre didn’t even have to pretend to think about it. “I know he will.” </p>
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